


There's Fire in Hell

by Larry_Klaine_Stylinson



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Bullying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Substance Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-20
Updated: 2013-03-20
Packaged: 2017-12-05 20:58:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/727857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larry_Klaine_Stylinson/pseuds/Larry_Klaine_Stylinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's life is pure Hell. He seems to lose everyone important to him in his life, leaving him with nothing but an alcoholic mother, and he's severely bullied at school. Things reach a certain point, and Harry is forced to move in with his mother's friend for a while, only to find that her son is his biggest bully of all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's Fire in Hell

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as a prompt fill on Tumblr.

Harry's had a tough life. His father died when he was twelve and after that he was forced to be the man of the household, regardless of the fact that he was the youngest. He and his older sister Gemma grew close after their father's death, taking care of each other, and Gemma helping Harry to take care of their mother Anne.  
  
After her husband's death, Anne became very closed off. Reserved. She hardly ever spoke to her own children, preferring to hide away in her room during the day, often sleeping, but sometimes just sitting there in the dark, her curtains pulled shut.  
  
Harry worried about his mum often, but Gemma kept telling him to let her be. That she'd be alright. That everything would work itself out eventually, and that everyone had their own ways of dealing with death. Harry's mum's way of coping just so happened to be to shut down, and eventually she'd be alright again. Gemma promised him.  
  
Harry wasn't old enough to get a job just yet, and their mother was in no position to, so Gemma had gone out and gotten one herself. She worked at a little corner store down the street every weekday after school, and nearly all day on Saturday. This left Harry to tend to his mother, making sure she had food to eat and got enough to drink.  
  
He had no friends at school, not having the time, energy, or general social skills to talk to anyone. All he really ever had time for was making sure his mother was still alive and breathing, and that his sister had something hot to eat when she got back from work.  
  
Harry was alone most of the time, with Gemma gone and his mother hiding away. It was tough. Harry was still just a child, and he felt like the weight of his entire family was resting on his shoulders. It made him sad that he couldn't get a job, because he didn't want Gemma to be the sole source of income. She wasn't making nearly enough money, and Harry began to resent his mother for shutting down the way she did. It had been almost a year now, and she was still nothing but a lazy sack. Harry would be thirteen soon, and yet he felt at least eighteen, with all he was expected to do for his family.  
  
When Harry was fifteen, he managed to get a job working at a local bakery. Long hours after school, closing up the shop alone most nights, and every Saturday and Sunday, all day. He was working more hours than Gemma now, and all he could do was pray that his mother was getting herself fed, because he wasn't around to look after her anymore.  
  
A week before Harry's sixteenth birthday, he walked in to wake Gemma up for school, only to find her lifeless body hanging just next to her bed.  
  
He crumpled to the floor, tears coming quickly, leaving hot streaks down his cheeks.  
  
"No." He whispered. "No, Gem, please!" He sobbed, crawling across the floor to a small piece of paper that he saw lying there. He picked it up.  
  
It read:  
  
 _"Harry,_  
 _My dearest baby brother, I want you to know that this wasn't your fault. In fact, if it wasn't for you, I would have been gone long ago. But I knew I had to stick around. I had to support you and mum, and I had to make sure you could handle everything on your own._  
 _But, Harry...I can't do it anymore. Ever since dad died, mum's been a complete mess, and I can't stand by and baby her anymore. I can't watch you baby her anymore. I know I told you everyone has their own way of dealing, but she's an adult, Harry. Why've we been put in charge? Why do we have to keep up the money for rent and food?_  
 _I know you'll find me, because mum doesn't leave her room but to piss and to eat when neither of us are around to cook for her._  
 _I'm sorry you have to see me like this, Harry. Truly I am. And I'm going to miss you, love._  
 _I hope mum comes to her senses now, and you can go back to being the kid you were always meant to be._  
 _I'll miss you every day._  
 _All my love,_  
 _Your big sis Gemma."_  
  
The ink had started to run towards the bottom of the page, and Harry knew Gemma must have been crying. He was crying now as well, but the ink was dried past the point of running, and Harry knew she must have done this last night.  
  
How hadn't he known? He'd seen her just half an hour before bed. They'd had dinner together and watched something on the telly that he hadn't really been paying attention to and she seemed fine.  
  
Or, rather, she seemed the same as she had been for the past four years or so, and Harry figured that maybe she'd never been okay.  
  
He began to cry harder, gasping sobs wracking his whole body. He didn't realize he was screaming until his mother came running in, asking what the matter was and stopping short when she saw her only daughter's body hanging from the ceiling.  
  
"Harry, what has she done?" Anne wailed. "What has she done?!"  
  
His mother broke down crying, and for a split second, Harry felt no sympathy for her. Because for a split second, he wanted to scream at her and tell her it was all her fault. But in the end, he knew Gemma didn't have to do this. She didn't have to go. And he didn't blame her for it, but he couldn't blame his mother either. So instead of yelling, screaming every profanity he could think of, and telling his mother he despised her, he crawled over and wrapped himself around her and they cried together.  
  
Anne called the police, and they came and took the body away.  
  
The funeral was a week later, falling on the same day as Harry's sixteenth birthday, and Harry's mother didn't go. Hardly anyone showed up, really. Just Harry, and Gemma's best friends from school. One was a boy who looked completely distraught, and Harry wondered if Gemma had had a boyfriend she hadn't told him about, or if maybe this boy had loved her and never told her. He didn't ask him, though. Just sat there and mourned the loss of his sister before heading home, only to find that there was no birthday cake. There were no presents. All that was there for him was his mother, drunk out of her mind and stumbling around the kitchen looking for another bottle of liquor.  
  
"Mum, you're drunk. Go to bed."  
  
"Harry, don't you tell me what to do. My daughter's killed herself."  
  
"She was my sister!" Harry yelled. "She was all I had left and now she's gone! You don't think I want to get drunk? You don't think I want to forget?" Harry grabbed his mother by the shoulders, easily dragging her alcohol filled body to her bedroom and lying her down, tucking her in. "Well I can't, mum. I can't because I've got to take care of you. I've got to be everyone you've lost and then some. So just go to sleep and try not to vomit on yourself."  
  
Harry sighed, running a hand over his face as he slowly walked out of the room.  
  
"Harry." His mother said quietly when he reached the doorway. "You said Gemma was all you had left. You...You still have me."  
  
Harry saw the sadness in her eyes, knew she wanted to be there for him, and he couldn't be mad at her for long, because no matter how much he wanted to hate her, he couldn't. She was his mother and he loved her, "I hope so." Was what he settled with saying, and then he turned the light out and walked out.  
  
000  
  
Anne was drunk every night after that. Absolutely every night.  
  
Harry wanted to hate her more than ever now, but he couldn't. He just couldn't. She really was all he had left, and he couldn't just hang her out to dry. So every day after long hours at school and even longer hours at the bakery, he'd come home and get some hot food into her stomach, along with as much water as he could force her to drink. Then he'd tuck her into bed and tell her he loved her, hoping that eventually, his love would be enough, and she'd remove herself from her drunken stupor and be a mother to him again.  
  
When he was sixteen and a half, he decided there was no use in hiding a detail about himself that he had figured out long ago.  
  
He was gay.  
  
He came out to his mother on one of her extremely rare sober days, only mildly worried about what would happen if he came out to her while she was intoxicated. His mother had never hit him, and he couldn't imagine her ever doing so; But there were rare times when she would yell at him, tell him what a shitty job he was doing of taking care of the house, and he was afraid that were he to come out to her when she was drunk, there might be a chance of being called some awful names that no one should be called by their mother.  
  
So when he came home from work at the bakery one Sunday, and his mother was dressed in a nice sundress, sitting at the kitchen counter reading the paper, Harry thought it would be the perfect time to tell her.  
  
"Hey, mum."  
  
"Hi, love. How was work?"  
  
Harry always felt strange on days when his mother was sober. Almost as if he'd drifted back in time a few years.  
  
"Good." Harry smiled. "Hey, can I talk to you about something?"  
  
"Of course. Anything."  
  
"Um, I'm...I'm-" Harry cut himself off, briefly wondering if this would came back to bite him in the ass later.  
  
"You're what, sweetie?" Anne asked, taking his hand gently in hers.  
  
Harry looked into her eyes, and she looked so nice today. So lovely. And he figured he ought to just tell her, "I'm gay."  
  
"Oh, is that all?" Anne asked. "Why were you so worried about that?"  
  
"I didn't know how you'd feel." Harry muttered.  
  
"I guessed this ages ago. When you were younger Gem-...Your sis-...I would always talk to...my...myself about how we-....How I thought you were gay. I honestly didn't think it'd take you this long to tell me."  
  
Harry gave his mother a tight hug, glad that she accepted him, and knowing that she was hurting at her own mention of Gemma, and he was hurting a little too, and he just needed a hug from his mum. He hadn't had a proper hug from her since the day Gemma died and they held each other as they wept. He missed her hugs. He missed her.  
  
000  
  
Somehow at school two weeks later, everyone had found out about Harry's sexual orientation. He couldn't remember letting it slip to anyone. He didn't have any friends to tell. But somehow, the whole school knew.  
  
Harry had always flown under the radar. He was tall, which you'd think would draw attention to him. But he was also run down and worn out, which made him look a lot smaller than he was. He was boring, and never talked. He sat alone at lunch and didn't answer questions in class unless he was forced to. He didn't go to football games or swim meets or support any of his school functions, because quite honestly, he didn't have the time or energy for it.  
  
Up until today, hardly anyone had even known his name, and even less people had spoken to him.  
  
And yet suddenly, everyone knew his name, and everyone knew he was gay, and everyone was picking on him for it.  
  
For the most part it was just small little jabs here and there as he walked down the hallway; Words that hurt him deeply, but he could brush them off, because none of these kids knew him. They didn't know his story.  
  
He wished everyone would just leave him the fuck alone. He had enough to deal with, supporting himself as well as his mother and her drinking habit. He knew that after school he would have to go straight to work and then home to put his mother to bed and make sure she was clean and fed, and then he'd have to stay up until god knows when doing homework, all to get up early tomorrow and do it all over again.  
  
None of the kids in his school knew that. None of them knew that his sister had killed herself. He and Gemma had gone to different schools, so no one knew he was related to her. Harry briefly wondered if they'd gone to the same school if things would be different. Gemma was popular. People would know Harry then. They'd know his story, and maybe they wouldn't be so cruel.  
  
Then again, maybe they'd be more cruel. Maybe they'd taunt him with the fact that his sister had offed herself.  
  
He didn't want to think about that.  
  
He was lost in his train of thought and didn't even notice as a group of guys walked up to him, the smallest of the group pushing him into a row of lockers with great force. The wind was knocked out of him, and he heard laughter loud and clear fill his senses as his vision went black for a second.  
  
When he regained his composure, the boys were gone.  
  
He made it through three classes before he was attacked again, the same boy as before, but this time without his friends. Harry recognized him now as Louis Tomlinson. Louis was on the football team, a star player, really. Everyone in the school knew his name. All the guys wanted to be his best mate, and all of the girls wanted to date him. Harry really couldn't give a flying fuck about him personally. He was arrogant and rude and as Harry was discovering now, he was a bully.  
  
Harry tried to dodge him, walking around him, but Louis was fast, and before Harry knew what was happening, his books were cascading to the floor. People watched on, shocked expressions on their faces, but no one offered to help Harry. No one told Louis off. Some people even began to laugh.  
  
Harry kept his head held high, though. His life had prepared him for much harder things than this.  
  
He knelt to the ground, grabbing up his books quickly. Just as he was about to stand up, he felt a foot collide with his back, sending him flying forward, face smashing into the ground, his tooth puncturing the inside of his lip. He could taste the metallic taste of blood in his mouth as he heard Louis mutter, "Queer."  
  
He picked his books up, sucking his lip in his mouth and hoping the bleeding would stop soon. He turned around and Louis was gone. Everyone was gone. The bell had rung and now he was late for class.  
  
Fuck.  
  
He ran down the hall, turning the corner and running into the classroom, sitting down quickly.  
  
"You're late, Mr. Styles."  
  
"Sorry." Harry mumbled, feeling his lip swelling up.  
  
000  
  
When school was over, Harry rode his bike to the bakery, pulling up out front and locking his bike to the bike stand.  
  
He went inside and found comfort in the warm air and familiar smell of the bakery.  
  
Ms. Williamson, the old woman who owned the bakery, was the closest thing that Harry had to a friend, at this point. He was pretty sure she gave him a bit more money than what his job was really worth, and she knew how tough his life was. She'd let him tell her about his day sometimes when they weren't busy, and he felt as if she really cared.  
  
"Harry, dear. Your lip's as purple as a plum."  
  
Harry shrugged, "S'fine."  
  
"It is most certainly not." Ms. Williamson said. "Why didn't you go to the nurse?"  
  
"I was late for class."  
  
"You could've got an infection." She scolded. "We've got no customers. You come here and you let me clean you up and you tell me about what happened."  
  
Harry went into the back, and Ms. Williamson cleaned off his lip, which hurt like hell. He sat on a small counter, and he told her about what had happened.  
  
"Well." He began. "You can't fire workers based on sexual orientation, right?" Harry asked. "Isn't that illegal?"  
  
Ms. Williamson put her hands on her hips, "You really think I'd fire you over something as silly as that anyway, Harry?"  
  
Harry shrugged. He didn't, but he couldn't afford to lose the job, "Okay." He nodded. "Well, I'm gay. And somehow everyone at school found out. Everyone was calling me names, and it hurt, but I could just brush it off, y'know? But this one kid, he started shoving me around a bit." Harry sighed.  
  
"Well then you shove him right back, deary." Ms. Williamson said, matter of factly. "That's what you've got to do in this world. Can't take shit from no one, love."  
  
Harry smiled a bit. He really did love Ms. Williamson. He couldn't shove anyone, though. He wasn't that type of person. He didn't like violence. There was enough hurt in his life already, he didn't need to be causing hurt for others. He didn't tell her that, simply nodded, put on an apron and got to work.  
  
000  
  
For the next month, Louis continued to push Harry around mercilessly. Harry was shoved into locker after locker after locker, he got punched in the face a few times, tripped at least once a week, and once he was locked into the bathroom. He still had no idea who had done that or how, all he knew was that he spent the entire school day locked in a bathroom, and no one cared enough to come and look for him. The janitor ended up letting him out at the end of the school day.  
  
Louis had gotten a few other boys in on it as well, so Harry was getting quite a few angry teenager's aggression taken out on him. He wondered sometimes if he was the only kid in the school who was bullied, or if everyone else was just as silent about it as he was, not wanting to draw attention to themselves.  
  
Summer break was just two weeks away, however, and if he could just get through all of his testing he would be done and gone for the whole Summer, and he could work extra hours in the bakery and make a little extra money and hopefully keep a bit of it for himself.  
  
Harry was walking down the hall on the way to his Math test, when suddenly, he was on the floor, his books scattered in front of him.  
  
He looked up to see bright blue eyes and feathery brown hair looking down at him.  
  
"Still gay today, Styles?" Louis asked.  
  
"Gay as ever." Harry replied, teeth gritted.  
  
He'd learned that it was better to be strong. They'd generally leave you alone after the first push if you let them know you weren't afraid.  
  
Ms. Williamson had taken to babying him slightly, seeing as he'd come to work with bruised eyes and swollen lips quite a few times. His mother hadn't noticed once since it had started.  
  
Harry waited for Louis to walk away before gathering his books and lifting himself up from the floor. He was pretty sure he'd twisted his ankle when Louis tripped him, and he hobbled and limped a bit on the way to class.  
  
When he got home that night his mother was passed out on the couch, and he left her be, needing to study for an extremely difficult Science exam for the next day. If he failed, he'd have to repeat the year he'd just done, and he honestly couldn't bare that. He had one more year of school left, and he needed to get out. He needed to be away from that place.  
  
The next two weeks went by in a blur of exams and questions and bruises and twisted ankles and knees that hurt from slamming on to the ground a few too many times, but finally the school year was over, and he'd passed all his tests, and Ms. Williamson gave him a day off of work at the bakery, which he spent at the park, swinging back and forth for hours, not wanting to spend the entire day with his drunk mother.  
  
When he got home that night, at first he thought the house was on fire, but then he realized that his mother had been cooking.  
  
"You finished school yesterday, and I wanted to surprise you with dinner." She smiled at him.  
  
"Thanks, mum." Harry smiled, a few tears springing to his eyes. "That means a lot, really." He hugged her.  
  
Harry briefly wondered how sad it was to be grateful that your own mother had made dinner for you, but decided not to think about it in favor of enjoying this nice meal with his mother.  
  
It was delicious, and Harry had forgotten how much he loved his mother's cooking.  
  
Over the first two months of Summer break, Anne was sober at least twice a week, and Harry knew that that wasn't something someone his age should be excited about, but he was so damn excited. He missed his mum. His sober, kind, helpful mum. And having her back, even if it was only twice a week, was a blessing for him.  
  
She'd cook dinner on those nights, and it would be ready by the time Harry got home from work, and they'd watch films together and laugh and make stupid jokes and Harry remembered why he put up with all the drunk nights. It was for nights like these where everything was normal again.  
  
With only two weeks left until Summer break was over, Anne began drinking more often again, and soon there was only a night a week that she was sober, if that.  
  
Four days before school started up again, Harry came home from the bakery to find his mother passed out in the middle of the kitchen. At first he ignored it, thinking she'd just had a bit to drink and decided to lie down wherever she'd been standing at the time, seeing as she did that on occasion. But as he looked at her strange position he knew that couldn't have been it. He dropped to his knees, listening to see if she was still breathing; She was, but it was shallow, barely there.  
  
He picked up the phone, calling an ambulance, and they were there within minutes, loading her onto a gurney and telling Harry to follow them.  
  
Harry wanted to cry, but no tears were coming. He was frozen in shock. He didn't even remember climbing into the ambulance, and yet there he was.  
  
All he could think about was how he couldn't lose his mother. He just couldn't. He'd lost everyone else, and he knew his mother could be useless, and she didn't always treat him right, but he loved her, and she was all he had left, and if he lost her due to her stupid drinking he'd never be able to forgive her or himself.  
  
They got to the hospital, and a nurse sat with Harry and talked with him while the doctors dealt with his mother.  
  
She ended up getting her stomach pumped, and a few hours after they'd arrived, Harry was let back to see her. She had an IV in her arm, and Harry assumed they were replenishing some vital fluids.  
  
"Harry." She smiled upon seeing him.  
  
"Mum." Harry said curtly, trying to hold back any emotion from his voice, because right now he had many and they were all conflicting.  
  
"I'm tired, love." Anne said. "They said I might be. I'm going to take a little nap."  
  
Harry nodded. He sat in a plastic chair that was set up against the wall and didn't sleep. He didn't sleep all night, and his mother didn't wake up until noon the next day. Harry had called Ms. Williamson to tell her what was going on, and she had understood and wished Harry well and insisted upon giving him at least half of his salary for the day, even though he told her it wouldn't be necessary.  
  
When Anne woke up, she blinked, as if sunlight were a foreign concept to her. And Harry realized that it sort of was. She'd always kept her curtains closed, for the past five years, they were always closed.  
  
"They want me to go to rehab, baby." Anne said with a grimace. "They told me so last night, after they'd pumped my stomach. Said if you'd come home half an hour later I wouldn't have made it."  
  
Harry simply nodded, at a loss for words.  
  
"I'm going to call my friend Jay and see if she'll take you in, alright? I'm going to be in rehab for a while, Harry. At least a few months, they said. They want me in-patient."  
  
"So...So I can't just stay home on my own for a few months?"  
  
"I'm afraid not, baby. You're only seventeen."  
  
"I've been taking care of you for five years!" Harry said, slightly outraged that he was being treated like a baby now of all times. "You don't think I can take care of myself for a few months?"  
  
"Of course I do." Anne said softly. "It's just more of a safety precaution, Harry."  
  
"I don't want to stay with your stupid friend, mum."  
  
In all honesty, Harry hadn't realized that his mother had any friends.  
  
"Jay is a wonderful woman, Harry. Probably a more fit mother than I ever was." Anne sighed, looking sad. "You'll just be staying with her until I'm healthy again, love. Just until I'm better."  
  
"Fine." Harry muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. And he realized that he was being slightly childish, but if he was being treated like one, then why shouldn't he act like one as well?  
  
A nurse came in, checking a few things, and Anne asked the woman for a phone to set up some new living arrangements for Harry. The woman nodded, smiling warmly and going to get her a phone to use.  
  
"Thank you so much." Anne smiled. She dialed a number and waited a moment. "Hello, Jay? - Yes, it's lovely to hear from you, too. - I was actually wondering if I could ask a favor? - Mhhm. - You see, I finally reached the edge, Jay. I'm in the hospital now, and I'm being sent off to rehab this evening, once I pack up a few things. - I'll be fine, Jay, really. - Yes, I was wondering if it might be alright if Harry stayed with you for a few months, until I'm better? - My son, Harry. - Yes, you met him when he was a baby, I think. - Yes, that one. - You're sure it's not too much trouble? - Thank you so much, Jay. He'll be over this evening. - I'll keep you both updated on rehab. - Mhhm. - Thank you again. - Bye." And then she hung up. "Everything's worked out, Harry."  
  
"I heard." Harry huffed.  
  
"Oh, don't pout, Harry. You're too old for that."  
  
"'Kay." Harry said, plastering a very obviously fake smile onto his face.  
  
"Oh, come now, Harry. Jay's got a son about your age. Maybe you can make a friend."  
  
Harry was perfectly fine having no friends. Sure, he got lonely, but it seemed as though every time he found someone he could rely on, or had someone in his life who he was meant to rely on, he lost them, or he couldn't. What was the point of having friends when even your own family left you?  
  
Harry stayed at the hospital while his mother filled out some forms and paperwork so that she could be released. They then went home to pack their things, and the hospital told them they'd be sending a car over in an hour to get them. They'd be taking Harry to Jay's first, and then taking Anne to the rehab center. The rehab center was nearly an hour away, and although visits were permitted, Harry doubted he'd be visiting his mother.  
  
When they arrived back home, Harry tossed the majority of the contents of his closet into a suitcase, grabbed a few other things he was rather certain he'd need in his time gone, and then went to help his mother pack her things.  
  
The car arrived outside, honking the horn, and Harry quickly zipped up his mother's suitcase, picking it up along with his own as they both headed out to the car.  
  
They climbed in, and the car drove down the road. Harry realized soon that this house was going to be much too far away for him to continue going to work, and although he loved Ms. Williamson, he wouldn't mind a few months off from the grueling long hours of school and work combined. He just hoped he'd be able to get his job back when he needed it again. He'd have to call her about it later.  
  
They pulled up outside a nice looking house, and Anne told Harry that this was the place. Harry got out, waving to his mother who waved back. Harry looked up at the large house, rolling his eyes at how new the paint looked. He was pretty sure this house could eat his house, and he was practically nauseated. Not only was he going to live with a woman and a boy his age he'd never met, he was going to be living with some prissy, stuck up people who would probably frown upon all of his clothing and all of his behavior and even though Jay was his mother's friend he was certain she'd have some snide remarks about her as well, and the way Harry took care of her.  
  
As he walked up the drive, he realized just how much he did not want to be here.  
  
He rang the doorbell and heard the car he had just climbed out of drive away. A few seconds later a woman with a nice smile and kind eyes opened the door, and Harry decided that maybe this wasn't the worst place he could have ended up, because she looked nice enough.  
  
"You must be Harry." She greeted, pulling him into a hug.  
  
He had to admit, it was nice. He missed getting hugs like this. Full, kindhearted hugs that warmed his whole body.  
  
"And you must be Jay." Harry said as they pulled away from the hug. "Hope you don't mind my calling you that. Mum didn't tell me a last name to call you by."  
  
"Of course not, Harry. If you're going to be staying here for a few months the least I can do is let you call me Jay, yeah?"  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"Would you like to meet my son? I'm sure he's eager to see who's going to be sharing the house with us for the next few months."  
  
"Sure." Harry muttered, although he'd much rather just talk to Jay.  
  
"Sweetie, come down here!" Jay called up the steps. "Our guest has arrived."  
  
"Mum, I'm trying to read, could you be a little quieter?"  
  
"I said our guest is here!" Jay called. "Come down and say hello!"  
  
"Sorry, mum. Couldn't hear you."  
  
Harry recognized that voice. He definitely knew that voice.  
  
A skinny boy with caramel colored hair and bright blue eyes rounded the upstairs corner and headed down the steps, every sense in Harry's body told him to run. He could not be seeing this right now. He couldn't be expected to spend who knows how long living in the same house as Louis Tomlinson.  
  
And yet here Louis was, standing right in front of him, smirking at him in a way that made Harry more than slightly uncomfortable.  
  
"Louis, meet Harry. Harry, this is my son Louis."  
  
"We've met." Louis said.  
  
"You have?" Jay asked, curious.  
  
"We go to school together." Louis explained.  
  
"Oh. Are you friends then?"  
  
"Suppose you could say that."  
  
"Wonderful!" Jay clapped her hands together once. "That gets the two of you getting to know each other out of the way then. This should be a jolly old time. Dinner's in an hour, Harry."  
  
"Thanks." Harry said, attempting a smile as Jay left the front hall, going to where Harry assumed the kitchen must be.  
  
"Well, well, well, isn't this interesting?" Louis said, crossing his arms in front of him.  
  
"Leave me alone, Louis." Harry said.  
  
"You honestly think I'd hurt you with my mum in the other room? She'd kill me. She thinks I'm an angel."  
  
"I could tell her." Harry threatened. "I could tell her how you treat me at school."  
  
"She wouldn't believe you." Louis said, and he sounded so sure of himself.  
  
"Why's that?"  
  
"Doesn't matter, does it?" Louis asked. "Just keep your homo ass away from my room and we'll be good, alright, Styles? No violence in the house, no fighting, no nothing. Not making any promises about at school, though."  
  
Harry nodded, "Yeah, fine. Whatever."  
  
"Suppose mum expects me to show you around, so come on." Louis said, signaling for Harry to follow him. They walked down the hall, and Louis pointed out rooms. "This here's the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom, the little sitting room which mum likes to call a den because apparently it sounds nicer, but it's really just like the living room except smaller." Louis stopped talking, and they walked back down the hall and up the stairs. "That's mum's room down there, dunno why you'd want in there, though. She's got her own bathroom. Then we've got my bathroom here. Suppose I'll have to share with you now, though. Just try not to get your gay saliva on anything." Louis laughed to himself, and Harry rolled his eyes. Was that honestly the best he could come up with anymore? He was losing his edge. "My room, which you'd better not sneak into at night. I don't need you spooning me in my sleep, alright, Styles? And then down here at the end of the hall is your room. It's nice and big so you can have your gay orgies on the weekends."  
  
Harry scoffed. As if he'd have orgies. He'd never even kissed anyone. He hadn't had friends since before his dad died, "Right. Thanks."  
  
"No problem. I'll be in my room until dinner. I'll probably hide there most of the time you're here, so I guess I'll mostly just see you at school, yeah?"  
  
"Whatever." Harry said, shutting the door in Louis' face so he could unpack.  
  
He unpacked his clothes, tossing them into the dresser that was set up on the opposite side of the room from the bed. The wooden floors were hard and cold, nothing like the old carpets they had at his house.  
  
He pulled out his phone, opting to use what time he had left before dinner to call Ms. Williamson.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hi, Ms. Williamson."  
  
"Oh, Harry dear. How are you? How's your mum?"  
  
"Um, in rehab, mum is." Harry said. "That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I'm staying with a friend of hers. I doubt I'll be able to come in to work for a few months. I understand if you have to replace me, but I just hope that once I get to move back home I can at least have some of my hours back."  
  
"You'll always be welcome to work here, Harry. I understand how hard this is for you, dear. You just let me know when you can get back to work and I'll make sure your apron is clean and ready for you."  
  
Harry smiled, "Thank you so much."  
  
"Any time."  
  
"I'll speak to you soon."  
  
"I do hope so."  
  
"Bye, Ms. Williamson."  
  
"Bye, dear."  
  
Harry hung up the phone, flopping down on the bed, which had been made when he got there. He covered his eyes the his arm and just took a moment to breathe. Maybe if Louis stayed in his room the way he'd said he would, staying here wouldn't be so bad. Jay seemed kind enough, and maybe if Louis knew that Harry would be coming home and seeing Jay every evening, he'd stop hitting him so much at school. Stop giving him bruises and swollen lips and little cuts. Because Jay was bound to ask where they'd come from.  
  
There was a knock on Harry's door and he called out, "Come in!"  
  
The door opened, and Louis was standing there, "Mum wanted me to tell you it's time to eat."  
  
"Thanks." Harry got up, and he and Louis walked down to the kitchen together, an awkward tension surrounding the two of them.  
  
They sat down to eat, and Harry discovered that Jay was quite a good cook.  
  
"This is delicious, Jay." He smiled.  
  
"Oh, thank you, Harry."  
  
Everything was silent for a while, and then Jay spoke up, "So, you boys start school soon. Are you excited?"  
  
"'Course I'm excited." Louis said. "Been missing my friends and playing football."  
  
Harry shrugged.  
  
"Don't you miss you friends, Harry?"  
  
"Don't really have any, I suppose."  
  
"Oh, don't be silly. A handsome boy like you? All the girls must be throwing themselves at you."  
  
Louis snorted, and his mother glared at him, "Louis, be nice."  
  
"It's alright." Harry shook his head.  
  
"It most certainly is not." Jay shook her head. "I raised Louis better than this. I raised him to be a kind young man, and snickering at your friend's misfortune does not fall in that category."  
  
"Sorry, mum." Louis mumbled, shoving some food into his mouth.  
  
They finished eating, and Jay asked Harry if he'd like to watch some telly with she and Louis.  
  
"No, thanks." Harry said. "I was up all night with mum at the hospital last night, and I'm really exhausted. Think I might just head to bed if that's alright."  
  
"Of course." Jay said. "Make yourself at home."  
  
"Thank you." Harry said, taking his plate over to the sink.  
  
He gave Jay a wave as he left the room, trudging up the stairs and into his room, grabbing his toothbrush from his suitcase and taking it into the bathroom with him where he brushed his teeth. He then walked back to his room, lying down on the bed and curling up under the unfamiliar covers.  
  
Everything felt strange to him. This wasn't his bed, and this certainly wasn't his room. At home everything smelled almost like the woods. All barky and mossy. But here it smelled fruity and clean, and it tickled Harry's nose when he breathed in too deeply.  
  
He was exhausted, however, and in no time, he was asleep.  
  
000  
  
The next day went by fine, Jay worked all day, and when she got home that night they all ate dinner together, but other than that, Harry was left alone; Louis not wanting anything to do with him, and Jay seeming to understand that he just wanted time to himself. He was adjusting to a knew home with people he barely knew, and she was seemingly understanding of that.  
  
On the second day in his new temporary home, he was sitting on his bed, headphones in his ears, listening to music, when he heard a faint knocking on his bedroom door.  
  
He took his headphones out, "Come in?" He said, sounding more like a question than an invitation, because Louis was the only one home, and what would he want?  
  
"I'm making sandwiches. Mum says I should be nice and hospitable while she's at work, so...Want one?"  
  
Harry was silent for a moment, thinking. He was rather hungry, "Yeah, sure." He shrugged.  
  
He followed Louis downstairs to the kitchen, and Louis pulled out everything he'd need to make their sandwiches.  
  
"I like ham, so you're having ham." Louis told him.  
  
"Fine." Harry shrugged.  
  
"You like cheese?"  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"Mustard?"  
  
Harry nodded again.  
  
Louis threw together a few sandwiches, tossing one down in front of Harry, "There you go."  
  
"Thanks." Harry muttered, picking up the rather poorly made sandwich. He figured he shouldn't complain. At least Louis wasn't calling him names or knocking him down.  
  
"How long do you think you're going to be here?" Louis asked, taking a bite of his sandwich.  
  
"Dunno. Mum says a few months. Who knows how long that is in rehab time, though. Could be a lot longer than I'd really like."  
  
"Wait, she's in rehab?" Louis asked.  
  
"Yeah. Assumed you knew that." Harry shrugged. He seemed to be shrugging a lot lately.  
  
"Nope." Louis shook his head. "Mum said it was a sensitive subject and that she wasn't going to tell me, and I shouldn't ask you either because it's rude or something like that."  
  
"I mean...It's not really a secret." Harry said. "She's had an alcohol problem for a while and it just reached a point..."  
  
Louis shook his head slowly as Harry trailed off, and Harry thought briefly that Louis looked almost as if he cared. As if he felt bad for Harry. But that couldn't be it, could it? Not from the boy who'd been pushing him around for so long now.  
  
"Tough, yeah?" Louis finally said.  
  
Harry simply shrugged again.  
  
They were both silent as they finished their sandwiches.  
  
"Well, I'm off to my room." Louis hopped up, walking towards the steps. "See you at dinner, I suppose."  
  
Harry had seen him at dinner, but they hadn't talked, Harry keeping quiet as usual, and Jay not asking him questions, which he was grateful of.  
  
000  
  
Harry's first day at school went by quite nicely. No one shoved him or called him a homo. No one acknowledged him at all, really, and he wondered if maybe things were going to go back to normal this year. He hoped so. He really really hoped so. He missed just blending into the walls and being a nobody. He wanted that back, even if it was lonely.  
  
He hadn't gotten any homework, and so he'd simply been listening to music since he and Louis had gotten back from school.  
  
Louis was kind enough to drive him, though he insisted upon letting Harry out a little ways away so they wouldn't be seen arriving together. Louis didn't want anyone thinking they were friends.  
  
It was around seven thirty when there was a knock on his door.  
  
"Mhhm?"  
  
"Dinner." Louis said, through the closed door.  
  
"Be right there."  
  
It was a bit strange to Harry, how normal this had become for him in such a short period of time. He supposed it was really no different from living with his mother, except for the fact that he was a lot less busy. He was left alone nearly all the time, and no one pestered him about school or how he was doing. He didn't have to make pleasantries and small talk. He just got to lay around in his room and listen to music or read, and once he started getting homework again, he could do that, too. He wouldn't say he enjoyed it really, because he missed his house, and if he was being honest, he missed his mum. He hoped she was doing well at rehab. He hoped they were treating her nicely. But as far as living arrangements go, Harry was rather certain he'd lucked out.  
  
He hauled himself up off the bed, trudging down the steps and into the kitchen, where Louis and Jay were already sitting around the table. Harry took a seat near Jay and across from Louis, taking a plate and piling food on top of it, not realizing how hungry he was until the food was sitting right in front of him.  
  
"So, boys, how was school?"  
  
"Good." Harry answered, feeling as if he should talk at least every once in a while. "Didn't get any homework today." He smiled.  
  
"You two have any classes together?"  
  
"A couple." Louis said, though Harry hadn't noticed.  
  
He supposed it was because he generally sat in the front, liking to be close to the teachers and knowing that no one would really notice him there anyway, and from what he had noticed of Louis over the years, he liked to sit in the back so he could pass notes and have whispered conversations.  
  
"That's good." Jay smiled. "The girls throwing themselves at you yet, Harry?"  
  
Harry was slightly uncomfortable. Obviously Jay didn't know he was gay, and he figured he shouldn't tell her, because he didn't know how she'd react. He simply pursed his lips and shook his head.  
  
"Well, they're missing out. What about you, Lou? Meet any cute b-"  
  
"Mum!" Louis snapped.  
  
"Louis, what on earth are you so upset about? I just want to know if there were any new bo-"  
  
"Mum." Louis said sternly, a panicked look on his face.  
  
"Alright, alright, I get it." Jay said. "You don't want to talk about your love life with your mum."  
  
Harry honestly couldn't believe what had just happened. Jay was trying to ask Louis if he'd met any cute boys, wasn't she? That didn't make sense. Why would Louis bully Harry every fucking day at school for being gay if he was, too? Wasn't he afraid someone would find out and start beating him up as well? Wasn't he afraid Harry would find out and call him on it? Didn't he feel bad, beating Harry up for something that affected Louis as well?  
  
He furrowed his brows together and continued eating, pretending he hadn't caught on to what had just gone on there, not wanting to make Louis angry. Not right now at least. Maybe he'd confront him about it later.  
  
They finished dinner, and Jay went to her room, leaving the two boys alone for the rest of the night.  
  
"Well, I'm off to go hide out in my room, so I'll see you for school tomorrow." Louis stood up, walking away.  
  
Harry stayed seated at the kitchen table, thinking. Did he want to confront Louis about this now? Louis had said he'd never hurt Harry with Jay in the house, so Harry figured it was worth a shot. If Louis got angry he could just tell Harry to back off. He wouldn't hurt him.  
  
Harry made his way up the stairs, down the hall to Louis' room and knocked on the door.  
  
"Come in!" Louis yelled, and Harry opened the door. "Fuck." Louis muttered. "I'd just assumed you'd be mum, since I told you to keep your faggot ass away from my room."  
  
"You can cut the crap, Louis." Harry said.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
Harry took a few steps into Louis' room, closing the door behind himself, "Do you think I didn't catch on to what happened between you and your mum during dinner?"  
  
"You mean that she was bugging me about my love life? What of it? She cares about stuff like that, and I usually indulge her. I didn't feel like it today. So what?"  
  
"She was obviously trying to ask you about boys." Harry said, crossing his arms in front of him.  
  
Louis stood up then, walking quickly over to Harry and grabbing his biceps tightly, "Styles, I swear to god if you tell anyone I will ruin you." Louis muttered, his voice low, but very angry and maybe a little scared.  
  
"I wouldn't." Harry said.  
  
"How can I believe that?" Louis asked.  
  
"Because. I get hurt every day over it. I wouldn't put someone else through that ever. I'm not that kind of guy."  
  
"Yeah, well." Louis said, letting go of Harry's arms and crossing back over to his bed.  
  
"I don't understand you." Harry muttered.  
  
"You're not meant to."  
  
"But why-?" Harry stopped short. "Never mind. You're right. I'm not meant to understand you."  
  
"Would you mind getting the hell out of my room now, Styles?"  
  
"Yeah, sure." Harry said. "Just...Your secret's safe with me, alright?"  
  
"Whatever." Louis mumbled, but Harry could sense that he wanted to say more. Maybe a 'Thank you'.  
  
000  
  
The entire first week at school went by without a hitch, and Harry was overjoyed. Everything was back to normal, and he hadn't gotten hurt and no one was calling him names. It was almost as if everyone had forgotten he was gay. Or like over Summer, being gay had stopped being a bad thing. Whatever had happened, Harry was glad of it.  
  
The weekend went by easily, Harry spending most of his time in his room, occasionally watching a bit of telly with Jay while Louis was out, most likely drinking or doing something stupid with some of his mates from the football team.  
  
Harry liked Jay. She was nice, didn't try to get him to talk too much, but would engage in amusing conversations with him when he started them. She'd told him about the back stories of a few television programs that he'd joined her in watching, and she had a nice way about her when explaining things like that, and Harry found her company tolerable. More than tolerable really. Maybe even enjoyable. It did make him miss his own mum a bit, though, even though they hadn't done much of anything like this in years.  
  
Jay got a call from Anne on Sunday, and Harry got to speak to her for a bit, and she sounded as if she was doing well. Harry was glad. He hoped he could have his old mum back. The one from before his dad died, or at least before Gemma had passed. Just something other than the drunken shell of a woman she'd been in recent years.  
  
Monday at school was when things started to go down hill again. He was walking along to History when suddenly he was sprawled out on the floor, a large textbook coming up and jamming him in the lip with its sharp corner.  
  
"Fuck." He muttered.  
  
"Queer!" He heard Louis' voice as he walked away.  
  
Harry heaved himself from the ground, wondering why Louis had started this up again. He hoped they could at least have a truce.  
  
Lunch rolled around, and Harry didn't feel hungry. His lip was swollen and sore and his stomach was in knots. He'd been on edge all day, and it was awful. He never wanted things to go back to this. He just wanted to fade away.  
  
After lunch was Geometry, and he went to his locker, grabbing out his textbook and heading off in the direction of his classroom. As he walked, he felt a sharp pain as someone's fist collided with his shoulder and he flew into a row of lockers. Louis was in the group which held the guy who shoved him, but it hadn't been Louis doing the actual shoving this time. Harry realized, as his right eye began to fill with tears of pain, that he'd hit the corner of his eye on someone's damn locker handle.  
  
He didn't want to go to the nurse. Had not yet once gone to the nurse about his bully-caused injuries. But this one was worse than anything he'd ever gotten before. He raised a hand to his face, and there was blood seeping from the corner of his eye. Just a little bit further to the left and he would've gotten that locker handle in his eye, and who knows what could've happened then. He wasn't going to go to the nurse, though. He wasn't.  
  
He walked down the hall, into the boy's bathroom where he took a look at himself in the mirror. His eye was swelling up already, and the blood was oozing out of the wound slowly. He wet a paper towel and brought it up to his face, gently dabbing at the blood and cleaning the wound off entirely. He then tossed the paper towel into the trash and headed off to class, slinking to the back of the room as the teacher informed him that he was late, as if he didn't know.  
  
He sat through class and felt his eye puffing up immensely to the point that he could barely see out of it.  
  
He spent the entire rest of the day like this, and when the final bell rang, he walked a block or two down the road and met Louis at his car. He climbed in, and Louis drove the two of them home. When they came in the front door, Jay was already home from work, having gotten off early that day.  
  
"Hello, boys. How was-" Jay stopped short. "Oh, Harry, what's happened to your face?"  
  
"Took a bit of a fall, didn't you, Harry?" Louis said, patting Harry on the back. "He was walking and wasn't paying attention where he was going and slipped on a bit of wet floor. Must've landed awfully strangely."  
  
"Yeah." Harry shrugged.  
  
"Louis, you take him upstairs right now and you clean him up, alright?"  
  
"Sure thing, mum." Louis smiled, leading Harry upstairs to their shared bathroom.  
  
Louis closed the toilet lid and sat Harry down on it. He opened up the cabinet and pulled out a few things to clean Harry's wounds with so they wouldn't get infected. The swelling in his eye had gone down greatly, which Harry was glad of, because at least he could see now.  
  
"Hold still, alright?" Louis asked, pouring a bit of alcohol onto a cotton swab and bringing it up to Harry's eye.  
  
It stung a bit, but Harry had had worse.  
  
"I could've told her, you know." Harry said.  
  
"Told her what exactly?"  
  
"That you and your friends did this."  
  
"And yet you didn't." Louis stated. "So it's a mute point now, isn't?"  
  
"Guess so." Harry shrugged. "But I'll tell her if you do it again, Louis. I swear I will. I'm sick of this. I'm sick of you fucking pushing me around like I'm lesser than you when we're on the exact same level."  
  
Louis seemed taken aback by Harry's sudden anger. Whenever they were just at school, Harry sat back and took it, not wanting to start a big scene. But it was just the two of them here. Harry could say whatever he wanted.  
  
"We're not on the same level, Harry." Louis said. "No one even knew who you were until we all found out you're gay. I'm on the football team. Everyone knows my name. We're so far from being on the same level."  
  
"Bet we'd be on the same level if everyone knew the truth." Harry stated.  
  
"You said you wouldn't tell!"  
  
"And I won't. Like I said, I'm not that kind of guy. I'd never out someone." Harry sighed. "But you've got to promise you'll stop doing this shit, or I'm going to tell your mum. And maybe that sounds childish, but I mean it."  
  
"Fine." Louis said, slapping his hands against his own thighs. "Fine, whatever. Just shut up and let me finish cleaning you up, yeah?"  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
Louis got a bit of disinfecting creme and put a dab on his finger, spreading it gently over the cut next to Harry's eye. Harry had nowhere to look but at Louis' face now, and he was captivated by Louis' eyes. He'd always known they were bright blue. Distractingly so. But when he was right up next to them like this, it was hard to look away. They were lovely, and Harry thought that maybe he could sit there and stare into them for days. But no, he couldn't. Because Louis was horrible to him, and he shouldn't want to be anywhere near him.  
  
Harry wondered if Louis was having similar thoughts about him, because suddenly Louis was jerking back, clearing his throat, "Mind if I put a bandage there? It'll help."  
  
"Go ahead." Harry said softly.  
  
Louis grabbed a small bandage, putting it over the wound by Harry's eye, "I'm going to clean your lip off now, yeah? It seems like there's a hole straight through it."  
  
"I think the book got one side and my tooth got the other and they met in the middle." Harry shrugged.  
  
Louis winced a bit. Looked almost remorseful for a few seconds. Then he got a bit of alcohol and put in on a tissue, holding it up to Harry's lip and cleaning it off gently. Harry noticed as Louis' eyes darted around, trying to look anywhere but at Harry's face. He also noticed that Louis was shaking; Barely enough to be noticeable, but enough that Harry knew he wasn't making it up. He also noticed Louis' sharp intake of breath when his eyes did land upon Harry's face, and then Louis pulled away.  
  
"Alright. All fixed."  
  
Harry thought about how weird it should have been that Louis was cleaning up the injuries that he had caused, but it felt almost normal. Almost as if it had happened before, although it most certainly had not.  
  
They both left the bathroom, going to their separate rooms until dinner.  
  
Jay came to get them both, and they all gathered around the table.  
  
Harry didn't eat much, the pain in his lip making him queasy, and his thoughts still running a mile a minute, because he couldn't deny the odd sparks he had felt with Louis earlier, and he knew Louis had felt them, too.  
  
He nibbled a bit of corn, and pushed his pasta around on his plate until Jay said he could be excused, and he thanked her, going up to his room to lay down and try to clear his muddled brain and upset stomach. He listened to calming music and closed his eyes, breathing deeply.  
  
A while later there was a knock at the door, and he hummed in reply, letting whoever was on the other side know that it was alright to come in. He assumed it would be Jay, coming to check on him and make sure he was feeling alright, but as the door slowly made its way open, it was Louis standing there.  
  
"Mind if I?" Louis asked, gesturing towards the inside of Harry's room, obviously asking if it was alright that he come in.  
  
"Go ahead." Harry said quietly, pulling his headphones out.  
  
"Harry, I-" Louis stopped, twiddling his thumbs. He took a few steps forward and then went to speak again, stopping before any words came out this time, and making his way over to Harry's bed, silently asking Harry's permission to sit down. Harry nodded, perplexed by Louis' behavior, and Louis sat down on the very edge of the bed. "Look." He began. "I'm not...I'm not a bad person, Harry."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes, "Right."  
  
"No, listen." Louis said, and his eyes were pleading. "I'm not. I've never been a bad person, and I know you've got no reason to believe me. But ask my mum. She'll tell you. I've always been a sweet kid."  
  
"But she doesn't know the real you, Louis. She doesn't know the guy who put a hole in my lip today for being gay."  
  
"I'm trying to apologize, Harry."  
  
"Well you're doing a shit job of it."  
  
"Do you know why I do the things I do? Why I bully you and why I egg other people on?"  
  
Harry shook his head.  
  
"Because I'm scared, Harry. I'm fucking terrified that someone's going to find out about me. And the more I pretend I hate you for being what I am, the less likely it is that anyone'll figure me out."  
  
"It isn't right." Harry shook his head.  
  
"You think I don't know that? I feel awful about it, and I'm really sorry, Harry. I really am, and I'll stop now."  
  
"You will?"  
  
Louis nodded.  
  
"You really will?"  
  
Louis nodded again.  
  
"No more pushing me and tripping me and calling me names?"  
  
"None of it." Louis assured him.  
  
"Will you tell other people to stop as well?"  
  
Louis hesitated for a moment before nodding.  
  
"Okay." Harry smiled a little, his lip hurting at the action.  
  
"You've got dimples." Louis breathed out, barely above a whisper.  
  
"What?" Harry asked, his brow creasing.  
  
"When you smile, you get dimples."  
  
"Oh." Harry said. "Yeah. No one ever sees much of them."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Don't smile much." Harry shrugged.  
  
Louis looked sad at that, and he opened and closed his mouth a few times as if he wanted to say something, but didn't feel as if he should.  
  
"Just spit it out, Louis."  
  
"It's hypocritical."  
  
"It's fine." Harry said.  
  
"Just...I was going to say you should smile more. You deserve to smile more."  
  
Harry laughed. An actual, loud, bubbly laughter escaping his mouth.  
  
"Told you it was hypocritical." Louis muttered.  
  
Harry nodded, "A bit, yeah."  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow?"  
  
"Yeah." Harry said.  
  
000  
  
The next morning, Harry and Louis were driving to school together, music on rather loud, and neither of them talking, as was usual for their morning drive to school.  
  
However, Louis drove right past where he always dropped Harry off, and Harry turned to look at Louis, confused.  
  
Louis turned the volume down on the radio, "My way of apologizing."  
  
"You apologized last night." Harry said.  
  
"Yeah, but I'm trying to show you that I'm really not a bad guy."  
  
"Why does it matter?" Harry questioned.  
  
"It just does, alright?" Louis snapped.  
  
"Okay." Harry nodded, not wanting Louis to get upset.  
  
"This is going to be a regular thing, alright? And just come out to the car when school lets out. You don't have to walk down the block."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Would you like to walk down the block?"  
  
"Not particularly." Harry said.  
  
"Then I'm sure."  
  
"Okay." Harry nodded.  
  
000  
  
For the next three weeks, Louis drove Harry to and from school, all the way each time. Harry had only been bullied once, and it wasn't by Louis, and it had quickly stopped.  
  
Louis was keeping his promise.  
  
They still wouldn't speak much at the house, Harry used to keeping his distance, and Louis obviously not wanting to go out of his way to really speak to Harry.  
  
It was Saturday, and Harry was lying on his bed, doing a bit of homework when there was a light knock on his door.  
  
"Come in!"  
  
Louis popped his head in, "Mum's going out with friends. Want to order a pizza for lunch?"  
  
"Sure." Harry said, setting his pencil down in his book to keep his place before closing it.  
  
"What kind of toppings do you like?" Louis asked as they walked downstairs together.  
  
"I'll eat whatever."  
  
"Mushrooms and pepperoni?"  
  
"Sounds delicious." Harry agreed, smiling a bit.  
  
Louis turned to walk away, and Harry could've sworn he heard him breath out the word 'Dimples' as he went.  
  
If Harry was being completely honest with himself, he might have a bit of a crush on Louis. Nothing too big, because Louis had treated him like shit for a good year or so, give or take. But Louis was civil with him now, and he had beautiful blue eyes and amazing hair and a lovely figure which Harry was most certainly not staring at as Louis stood there with his back to him, on the phone with the pizza place.  
  
After he finished placing the call, Harry was still just standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room.  
  
"You're allowed to sit down, you know." Louis said.  
  
"Right." Harry said. "Yeah. Sorry."  
  
"Don't apologize to me. It's your feet that'll be tired." Louis said, plopping down on the couch.  
  
Harry sat down on the opposite end, not wanting to pop Louis' bubble of personal space. Louis turned on the telly, flipping through channels before stopping on some stupid reality show that Harry wasn't interested in, and Louis didn't really seem to be interested in either.  
  
"You know, contrary to the way I've acted in the past, I won't hurt you."  
  
"Hmm?" Harry asked, his eyebrows knitting together.  
  
"You don't have to sit all the way across the couch."  
  
"Oh." Harry said. "Did...Did you want me to sit closer?" He couldn't deny the slight swooping sensation he felt in his stomach as he waited for Louis' answer.  
  
"Only if you want to." Louis said. "Just...You didn't look the most comfortable, and I wanted you to know that you'd be safe moving."  
  
"Thanks." Harry said, scooting a bit away from the edge of the couch, generally preferring to sit in the very middle of couches.  
  
The doorbell rang and Louis popped up, "That'll be the pizza man. They were fast."  
  
Louis scuttled off to the door, coming back with one large pizza box in his hands, "Care to watch a film or something while we eat?"  
  
"Sure." Harry said, and Louis sat back down on the couch, a little closer to Harry than he had been before.  
  
"We should watch something funny." Louis commented. "I feel like you need something funny."  
  
Harry shrugged. He really didn't care what they watched.  
  
Louis got up, popping in some comedy, and Harry didn't really bother to pay attention at first, seeing as Louis had ended up sitting even closer to him still this time, the fabric of their trousers just barely brushing, not to the point where their actual legs were touching, but just to the point that Harry knew Louis was there.  
  
After he'd eaten three pieces of pizza, though, he realized it was Wedding Crashers, which was a movie he'd watched with Gemma once long ago, and it really was quite funny. At first he was nervous about laughing. He got that way sometimes, so used to closing off all his emotions to keep himself strong that when he had a good opportunity to emote, he'd get nervous about it. A little shy. But he decided he felt comfortable enough around Louis to let himself laugh, just a little.  
  
The movie was half over now, and Louis glanced over at Harry, smiling just a little, "You know, your laugh's really nice, Harry."  
  
"Thanks." Harry muttered, although after that, he stopped laughing.  
  
A few funny bits later, Louis turned to him again, "How come you stopped laughing?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"You stopped laughing, after I said it was nice."  
  
"Just...Got self conscious." Harry shrugged.  
  
"Let me get this straight." Louis said. "I complimented you, and that made you self conscious?"  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"Isn't it supposed to work the other way 'round?"  
  
"Maybe?"  
  
"If I told you your eyes were a lovely shade of green would you keep them closed forever?"  
  
"Probably not." Harry said. "I don't think I'd fancy being blind."  
  
"Good. Because they are."  
  
"Oh." Harry said, looking down at his hands, his thumbs twiddling together in his lap.  
  
"Stop that." Louis said, resting a hand on top of Harry's to stop them from moving. "You're distracting me from the movie."  
  
"Says the one who's been talking for five minutes."  
  
"Hush." Louis said, his hand still on Harry's.  
  
"Louis." Harry said.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Your hand is...Your hand."  
  
"Why, yes, Harry. My hand is my hand." Louis said. "Did you have any other scientific observations to make today, or could we put our attention back on the movie?"  
  
Harry shrugged. Louis pulled Harry's hands apart from one another, entwining the fingers of his right hand with the fingers of Harry's left.  
  
Harry was having a little trouble breathing now.  
  
"Harry." Louis whispered.  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
"Fine." Harry shrugged. "Why do you ask?"  
  
"You got really still all of a sudden." Louis stated. "Did you not want me to...?" Louis asked, raising their joined hands.  
  
"No, it's fine." Harry shook his head.  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Yeah." Harry said. He was really really sure, in fact.  
  
Louis' hand fit snugly in his, his slight fingers slipping between Harry's slightly larger ones easily.  
  
Harry was curious, however, as to what exactly was going on. Did Louis have feelings for him, or did he just like to hold hands during movies? And if Louis did have feelings for him, what was Harry going to do about it? He liked Louis, but he didn't want to like Louis. He couldn't deny, though, that sitting here next to him felt inexplicably right.  
  
Harry decided to just focus on the movie, and he could deal with this later.  
  
A particularly funny bit went by, and Harry laughed loudly, quickly covering his mouth with his free hand, his loud burst of laughter startling to his own ears.  
  
Louis grabbed Harry's hand and pulled it away from his mouth, "Just laugh, Harry."  
  
Harry nodded, and Louis slowly lowered his head to rest on Harry's shoulder, as if he was afraid if he moved too quickly, Harry would disappear.  
  
"Is this alright?" Louis asked quietly.  
  
"Sure. If you...If you want to."  
  
Louis snuggled his head more comfortably onto Harry's shoulder, and Harry let his own head drop down to rest on top of Louis'.  
  
Louis was laughing at the movie now, and his laugh changed a lot. One second it was a mere soft twinkle of laughter, and the next it was a loud chortle that hurt Harry's ear a little, but he didn't really care so much.  
  
Harry continued to laugh as well, feeling more and more comfortable with each passing second.  
  
The credits began to roll, and Harry lifted his head from Louis' expecting the shorter boy to get up and remove the DVD from the player, but he didn't. He stayed tucked into Harry's side. Harry looked down at him inquisitively, and Louis raised his head from Harry's shoulder, looking him in the eyes.  
  
"What?" Louis asked.  
  
"Are you going to get the film out?"  
  
"Haven't you ever heard of watching the credits?" Louis asked. "And besides, I like it here."  
  
"Where?" Harry asked, his stomach tying itself in knots.  
  
"Next to you."  
  
Harry didn't reply, just kept looking at Louis.  
  
"Harry, are you alright?"  
  
"M'fine."  
  
"Okay. Because you're just staring at me, and I don't know what you're thinking. And your eyes are saying a lot of things, but they're giving me mixed signals."  
  
Harry wondered how Louis could tell what Harry's eyes were saying, but that didn't really matter, because Louis was staring right back at Harry, and Harry had no clue what Louis' eyes were saying, because he didn't speak their language.  
  
"Harry, do you want me to move?" Louis asked, and Harry didn't reply. Could reply. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"  
  
Harry didn't know. Was Louis making him uncomfortable? He felt like he should be, with his sudden affectionate nature, but he wasn't, "No."  
  
"Good." Louis nodded, setting his head back down on Harry's shoulder.  
  
"Lou, the credits ended."  
  
"Say that again."  
  
Harry was confused, "The credits ended?"  
  
"No, the other thing."  
  
"Lou?"  
  
"Mhhm." Louis nodded.  
  
"Why d'you want me to say Lou again?"  
  
"I just like how it sounds."  
  
"No one's ever called you Lou before?" Harry asked, confused, nearly certain he'd heard Jay call him that.  
  
"Of course. Everyone calls me Lou. Just...You never have before."  
  
"We've never really been on nickname terms." Harry shrugged, jostling Louis' head on his shoulder slightly.  
  
"But we are now?"  
  
"Seems like it." Harry said. "You're holding my hand."  
  
"Holding hands constitutes nicknames?"  
  
"I don't know!" Harry said, slightly frazzled. "I don't know, Lou. I don't know anything."  
  
"What do you mean?" Louis asked, lifting his head from Harry's shoulder to look him in the eyes.  
  
"I mean that a month ago we hated each other and now you're holding my hand and my stomach's all twisted up and I don't know how you feel or why you're doing this and I certainly don't know how I feel and I don't know what I'm supposed to say or what I'm supposed to do. I don't know what you want me to do, and I don't know why you won't stop asking all these questions." Harry babbled.  
  
"A lot can happen in a month."  
  
"That's all you're going to say?" Harry asked. "After all of that, that's all you're going to say to me?"  
  
"Well, we don't hate each other anymore, right?"  
  
"Right."  
  
"So there's your first problem out of the way. As for the rest of it, I can't tell you how you're feeling. But I can tell you how I'm feeling."  
  
Harry waited, and when Louis didn't speak, he prompted him to continue, "Go on then."  
  
Louis didn't speak, simply leaned in and pressed his mouth to Harry's gently. It was just a simple touch of the lips, and then he was gone.  
  
"That didn't really tell me how you feel."  
  
"I felt like kissing you." Louis shrugged.  
  
"But what does that mean?" Harry asked, exasperated.  
  
"It means exactly what it sounds like it means; I wanted to kiss you."  
  
"So you just go around kissing everyone you want and it doesn't mean anything and then I'm left wondering what's going on and where I stand and-"  
  
"Harry." Louis cut him off. "I don't know what's going on either. That was my first kiss, alright? And I'm scared."  
  
"You're not acting scared." Harry said.  
  
"Because even though I'm scared, it's not really scary, you know?"  
  
"No, I don't know." Harry said. "As I said before, I don't know anything. But, um. Just...That was my first kiss, too."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"Want to try for a second one?"  
  
Harry started to nod, but then stopped, "No." He shook his head. "I don't actually. Not until I know what's going on."  
  
"Why does something have to be going on?" Louis asked.  
  
"Do you have feelings for me or don't you?"  
  
"I don't know, Harry. I'm...I'm just as confused as you."  
  
"Then let's talk about this."  
  
"Okay." Louis said, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.  
  
"What...What are you feeling right now?"  
  
"Like I'm confused. Like I really want to kiss you, but I shouldn't want that. Like I'm really glad you had to move here, because otherwise I'd still be hurting you in the hallway instead of getting to listen to you laugh while I hold your hand." Louis took a deep breath. "I guess...I guess I'm feeling...Feelings for you?"  
  
Harry swallowed hard, his heart pounding loudly, "Right. Okay, my turn."  
  
"Your turn." Louis nodded. "What are you feeling?"  
  
"Like I want you to kiss me, too. And it's nice that I was your first kiss and you were mine. But I feel like I should still hate you for what you did to me for the past year, I can't count how many black eyes and swollen lips you gave me. But it's like that doesn't matter anymore because your eyes are so blue, and you're still holding my hand, and I guess maybe I have feelings for you, too. I know I do, actually. And it's stupid and I shouldn't, but they're there, and the longer you stare at me like you are right now, the more I just want to kiss you."  
  
"So kiss me." Louis whispered.  
  
Harry leaned forward, taking Louis' lips with his in a gentle kiss. Their lips moved together, and it tickled a little, and Harry's lips felt almost like they were burning. And Harry thought for a brief moment, that if his life was Hell, Louis was the fire.  
  
He pulled away slowly, his eyes drifting open to meet Louis'.  
  
"What does this mean then?" Louis asked.  
  
"What do you want it to mean?" Harry asked. He knew what he wanted it to mean, but he needed to know what Louis wanted it to mean.  
  
"I want...I want it to mean something."  
  
And maybe to most people that would've sounded confusing, but Harry knew exactly what Louis meant. He meant he wanted it to be important. He wanted it to have happened for a reason. He wanted it to happen again.  
  
So Harry leaned forward, taking Louis' lips with his again. This time with a bit more fervor, a bit more excitement. They moved their lips together, and then Harry's tongue drifted out, slowly, cautiously, and he ran it along Louis' bottom lip. The blue eyed boy opened his mouth, and Harry slipped his tongue inside, exploring. It was strange, having his tongue in someone else's mouth, running along Louis' own tongue and feeling Louis' teeth graze along the wet flesh. But it was also nice. Louis' hands came up to tangle in Harry's hair, pulling him closer, if that were possible, and Harry breathed out through his nose, against Louis' cheek.  
  
They pulled back, both breathing heavily. A little dazed, and a little confused as to where they stood now.  
  
"Harry, do you...?" Louis trailed off, and Harry could feel his heart pounding in his chest.  
  
"What? Do I what?" He asked, urgency in his tone, needing to know what Louis was asking him.  
  
"Do you want to be my...My boyfriend?" Louis asked. "God, that sounded dumb. Sorry. Can I...Can I try again, or-"  
  
"Louis." Harry cut him off, and Louis looked up, their eyes meeting. "You don't have to try again. I want to."  
  
"Want to be-"  
  
"Your boyfriend." Harry finished for him. "Yeah."  
  
Harry took a brief moment to take in how strange this all was. Harry and Louis had hated each other just a month prior, and they'd only been civil towards each other until today. And yet everything had changed, and here they were.  
  
Harry began to laugh, and Louis looked at him, confused, "Not that I don't love that sound, but what's funny?"  
  
"Just...This is so stupid. This shouldn't be happening." Harry laughed again. "But it is happening, and Louis...I'm happy. I'm happy, and I haven't felt this way since my dad died."  
  
"And when was that?" Louis asked.  
  
"When I was twelve."  
  
"Oh, Harry." Louis said, his eyebrows coming together as he wrapped Harry up in his arms. "I'm sorry. There's so much I don't know about you."  
  
"You don't know hardly anything about me." Harry chuckled.  
  
"Suppose I could say the same about you, huh?"  
  
"You could." Harry confirmed. "Let's get to know each other then, yeah?"  
  
"There's nothing I'd like more."  
  
000  
  
They spent the next two months learning everything about each other, from simple things like their favorite colors and favorite bands to more important things, like the death of Harry's sister, and how scared Louis was of ever coming out to anyone aside from his mum and Harry.  
  
They grew closer than Harry could ever remember being with anyone, and Jay had figured them out after two weeks. She'd told them she was happy for them, and that as long as they didn't try getting up to anything inappropriate in her house, then she was perfectly fine letting their relationship continue.  
  
They'd agreed, neither of them ready for anything more than snogging anyway. Which they happened to do a lot of, along with talking.  
  
It was a Saturday afternoon, and Harry and Louis were sitting on the couch, snuggled up to each other and watching some show that Jay had insisted they watch. She was in the kitchen getting herself a snack when the phone rang.  
  
"Harry, love, it's your mum."  
  
Louis looked at Harry, concern in his eyes, and Harry smiled at Louis, assuring him that his mum had been doing well lately.  
  
Harry went into the kitchen, taking the phone from Jay, "Hey, mum."  
  
"Hi, sweetie." Anne greeted. "I've got good news."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I'm being released tomorrow. They've told me that I'm recovered, love. I'm coming home. I'm coming to get you and we're going home."  
  
"Mum, I'm so happy for you." Harry smiled. "I'm so proud of you."  
  
"Thanks, baby." Harry could hear the smile in Anne's voice, as well as a few tears. "I'm so sorry I put you through all of this. I'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning."  
  
"Don't apologize." Harry shook his head, even though she couldn't see him. "I'll see you."  
  
Harry handed the phone back to Jay, heading back into the living room and plopping down next to Louis who snuggled up to his side.  
  
"What'd she want?"  
  
"She's being released." Harry smiled. "She's coming home tomorrow. Coming to get me."  
  
"Oh, Harry, that's wonderful." Louis smiled.  
  
"I'm gonna miss seeing you every day, though."  
  
"I'll come over every day, I promise. We'll spend as much time together as we can."  
  
Harry sighed sadly. He was so glad to be getting his mum back, but he was going to miss Louis like crazy.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"I want to hold hands at school on Monday."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You heard what I said."  
  
"Louis, if you're not ready for that we don't have to-"  
  
"Harry, I want to. Please."  
  
"Okay." Harry nodded, smiling. "Yeah, okay."  
  
000  
  
Jay let them share a room that night, and Harry wrapped his arms tightly around Louis' waist, his chin resting on top of Louis' head.  
  
Harry was nearly asleep when he heard Louis' voice ring out softly, "Hey, Harry?"  
  
"Yeah, babe?" Harry asked, his voice sounding tired, even to his own ears.  
  
"I love you."  
  
Harry raised his head from his pillow slightly, not sure if he'd heard Louis correctly, though he hoped he had, "What?"  
  
"I love you, Harry." Louis said, and he sounded so sure, and Harry was nearly certain his heart was going to burst.  
  
He turned Louis over to face him, looking him right in the eyes, "I love you, too."  
  
Louis leaned up, grabbing Harry's face and kissing him hard, "Now it doesn't matter if we see each other every day. Because love is special, right? We're special."  
  
"Yeah." Harry nodded. "Yeah, we're special."  
  
000  
  
Harry woke up to the sound of a knock on the front door.  
  
"Louis!" He said. "Louis, that'll be my mum!" He flung the covers off, running downstairs and to the door, seeing Jay standing there, along with Anne. "Mum!" Harry yelled.  
  
Anne looked up, and Harry ran towards her, throwing himself into her arms and she squeezed him tight.  
  
"Mum, I've missed you." Harry pulled away from the hug, giving his mother a once over. She looked better than Harry could ever remember seeing her. Happy and healthy. "You look great, mum. Really great."  
  
"I've missed you, too, Harry." Anne smiled.  
  
Louis made his way down the steps then, and Harry turned around to smile at him, "Mum, I've got news."  
  
"What's that, love?"  
  
Harry reached out a hand towards Louis, which the shorter boy took, "Louis' my boyfriend."  
  
"Oh, really?" Anne asked, and Jay, Louis and Harry all nodded. "That's so sweet. I'm so happy for you, Harry. So happy for both of you."  
  
"And I'm happy for you, Anne." Louis smiled. "You look absolutely brilliant, and I'm glad you've gotten yourself well. Harry's really missed you."  
  
Harry could tell that Anne knew Louis meant that Harry had missed her for longer than the few months she'd been away. That Anne knew Louis had meant that Harry had missed her for years and years.  
  
"I know." She nodded, tears spilling from her eyes. "I've missed him, too. I really have. Thank you both for letting him stay."  
  
"Of course." Jay said.  
  
"I'll go get my stuff and we'll go, yeah?" Harry said.  
  
Anne nodded.  
  
Harry ran up to his room, grabbing his suitcase which he'd packed the night before and heading back down the stairs. He gave Jay a hug, and thanked her for everything she'd done for him.  
  
He then hugged Louis, who held him tight and whispered that he loved him, "I love you, too, Lou."  
  
"They love each other!" Jay said, nudging Anne. "This was news to me."  
  
"News to everyone." Louis said. "We just told each other last night."  
  
"Go to rehab and you miss everything." Anne joked.  
  
"This wouldn't have happened if you'd never gone to rehab, so I suppose you could say it's all because of you." Harry laughed.  
  
"Let's go with that." Anne smiled. "Makes me feel a bit better."  
  
"I'll see you at school, Lou." Harry smiled.  
  
"I'm sure I'll see you soon." Jay said.  
  
They all bid each other goodbye, and Harry left with his mother.  
  
000  
  
They spent the afternoon out, Anne having spent most of her time inside at rehab.  
  
They went to the park and had a picnic for lunch, and they went for a walk around the neighborhood, and they stopped by the bakery and greeted Ms. Williamson, who told Harry he was welcome back to work as soon as he was ready, to which he told her he'd be in tomorrow.  
  
Anne was getting herself a job, so Harry wouldn't have to work as many hours nor would he have to work as many days a week, but he loved Ms. Williamson, and he'd missed working for her.  
  
That evening, Harry and his mother went back to their old house. After all these months away, it felt almost foreign, but once they'd settled in, it all felt right again.  
  
"I'm so sorry your life has gone the way it has, Harry."  
  
"Don't apologize, mum. Honestly."  
  
"Harry, I want to. I was a horrible mother to you. I know how much you loved your sister, but when we lost her, all I did was abandon you."  
  
"I miss her." Harry mumbled.  
  
"I know. I miss her, too." Anne said, kissing his forehead, and tucking him underneath her arm where they were sitting next to each other on the couch. "But you've got me now, and I'm here, and I'm ready to be the mother I should have been all along."  
  
"I love you, mum." Harry smiled.  
  
"I love you, too, baby boy."  
  
Harry held his mother tight and let himself cry for a while, simply wanting the comfort his mother had never properly given him during all the grief he'd endured in his life.  
  
She made dinner for the both of them, and her cooking was just as good as Harry had always remembered. Maybe even better.  
  
Harry couldn't have been more grateful to have his mum back.  
  
000  
  
The next day, Harry met Louis outside the front of the school.  
  
"Ready?" Harry asked.  
  
"Ready." Louis said.  
  
"If anyone tries to hurt you, or lay a finger on you, or even call you any names, I'm going to fucking end it, you know that, right? I won't let anyone do to you what they did to me."  
  
"What I did to you." Louis muttered, looking down at his feet.  
  
"Hey." Harry said, taking Louis' chin between his thumb and forefinger and lifting his head so they were looking in each other's eyes. "That's in the past. It's behind us, and you're sorry and I've forgiven you and it doesn't matter anymore. What matters is that I'm going to protect you."  
  
"I'm so sorry, Harry."  
  
"Stop." Harry said. "I'm done with everyone apologizing for the past. You've made up for all of that. We're here now, and I love you."  
  
"I love you, too." Louis smiled.  
  
Harry leaned down, kissing him softly.  
  
"You're sure you're ready?"  
  
"I'm positive." Louis said, nodding at Harry.  
  
Harry took Louis' hand in his as they walked towards the front doors of the school, and Louis' skin felt hot against his own; And Harry thought to himself that even if his life wasn't Hell anymore, Louis was still the fire.


End file.
